Lost Isle
by Celestia Memora
Summary: yeah, full summary inside. Basics: Hermione runs away. Hermione finds out something that will make it very hard to stay away from the wizarding world...
1. Default Chapter

Hello everyone and welcome to my very first really action adventure fan fiction. I will warn you: it has very little romance at all, so if that is mostly what you want, this really isn't your type of fan fiction. Don't get me wrong, I love romance, but this story is primarily action adventure. And maybe a ¼ of a teaspoon of romance, and that's about it. I think I am reiterating (that is to say, saying the same thing over again in a different way) so I'll just get on with my story.

Story name: Lost Isle (that's a really sucky name, but I don't know any other title that won't give away the story, so it might change about half way though. If anyone has any good ideas about a title, give me a holler through e mail or review, either which)

Basic summary: Just before the big battle of good and evil starts in the wizarding world, Hermione runs away, for reasons unknown. To California. She tries to ignore her roots, but soon, she stumbles onto something that she cannot ignore, and she is the only one who knows about it.

Disclaimer: Not mine. You know it. I know it. This is the reason it is on FanFiction.net and not in J.K. Rowling's book. Some of the plot isn't even mine, because it resembles a plot from an already published book, written by one of my favorite adventure authors, even though sometimes he has a lot of technical stuff in his books which make them hard to understand for the average laymen. I'll give you a cookie (figurative of course) if you guess whose.

Any who, on to the story!!!

Prologue

            I, Hermione Granger wanted out. I was done with the wizarding world. I wanted to run away from it all with my little coward tail between my legs and forget it all. To use a term, I was more of a poet than a fighter, though most of my poetry sucked. The first battle I was in wasn't even that big. But I was scared anyway. With bodies lying on the ground, unforgivable curses whizzing through the air, I though I was going to pass out. Harry and Ron were fine; they where up there with everyone else, blast the deatheaters and trading reckless laughs. I was on my knees retching behind them all, wishing to die and be done with it. I wonder, if they had that happen at Waterloo and all the other famous battles, wouldn't they have painted it in the pictures? I suppose not. When this is said and done, I certainly won't be painted in any pictures. I'll probably be just a footnote.  

            There are no distinguishing marks on a person who is killed with Avanda Kedavra, but that doesn't mean they don't decay. Out on the battle field, with at least 85 degree heat, the smell was worse than I ever could've imagined. And their eyes, just staring up, the whites of their eyes pale as their skin. Every time I think back on that battle, I have a cold lightning like shiver run up and down my spine.

            After the battle, when everyone else is talking, I was still haunted by the faces of the fallen, and I had nightmares about them for well over a month. And so I ran. Far away form what I believed to be the epicenter to the largest war I had ever seen or heard of.

            I thought to myself, where could I go? No where in Europe, surely, so it was to America, to a little coastal town in California where there wasn't even high speed internet. I thought I could stay here and not get involved with anything going on. Boy, was I dead wrong. Dead _dead_ wrong.

Chapter 1

            Hermione Granger sat at a bar stool, at a bar that was in a need of a good fixer up. Sipping at a root beer at a bar that needed a dusting, she sat in silence.  The TV behind her mounted on the wall was blaring about mass murders and kidnappings in Europe, and suspects. She sighed. _I won't be able to run from it much longer_, she thought with a sigh.

            "Turn that crap off Bill." She said to the regular sitting closest to the TV. It was turned off, and an empty silence filled the dirty tavern.

            "I'm turnin' on some good music Hermione." Said Charlie Maude, the barkeep. (a/n: I'm Maude! Charles F. Maude! Sorry, inside joke that I had to include!) He tuned the radio, and found a country station with Johnny Cash singing about a ring of fire.

            Hermione had become accustomed to sad country songs about lost love and cowboys, and her favorite was 'Night Riders in the Sky', though she was partial to Toby Keith. She downed the rest of her bottle and got another one from Maude.

            As he was uncapping her bottle of Lost Trail, he leaned over to her and said, "How 'bout those characters comin' in the door?"  She turned around, expecting to see some fluffed up business man speaking on a cell phone, but what she saw instead gave her stomach a lurch quite unrelated to her need to belch.

            They were cloaked in dark robes, and were speaking to each other in low suspicious voices.

            "…He wants us to travel like muggles, since they're monitoring apparation work. Down right primitive, it is…" then they became aware that just about everyone (save a couple making out in the back corner) was listening in. Then they silently found a booth and began their conversation in low whispers. The previous noise slowly went back to its previous level (a dull hum).

            "Whaddaya reckon?" said Maude in a low tone. "You okay Hermione?" Because Hermione recognized the cloaked figures. It not anyone from the order, it was Avery and McNair, two high profile deatheaters. If they were to spot her, there was no telling what they might do. She had swiveled around on her barstool and had fixed her eyes, horrified, at the Budweiser sign hanging over the shelves of hard liquor.  "Do you know those two?" Her expression told him all he needed to know. "I'll take care of this." He said gruffly, walking out from behind the bar. Hermione watched him by the mirror. He walked over to the table.

            "Can I get you boys anything?" He said, slightly polite.

            "I'll take white Zinfandel." Said Avery. Hermione snorted though her horror. Avery didn't seem the champagne type. Maude squinted his eyes at him.

            "I'm afraid we don't serve that here. It'll be beer or whisky." He said, in a mostly good natured voice. Avery exploded. It seemed that he had had just about enough over the last few days.

            "Hillbilly!!!" He shouted, and stood up. The bar had gone suddenly silent. Maude's eyes went fiery, and he pointed to the door.

            "Get out." He said in a low warning tone.

            "OUT!!!" he shouted, and he grabbed both by their collar, dragged them across the floor, and tossed them out the door. He went back behind the bar to Hermione. "The nerve…" he spat in a dirty glass he had been beginning to wipe down. "No wonder you don't like 'em…"  

Well? Did you love it? Hate it? Let me know!

Cellie


	2. Chapter 2

A/n: ack! I am so so so so sorry for taking the better part of a year to put this up! I have like five or six chapters to put up, they are all on notebook paper, and I was lazy and didn't put them up until now! Jeez, I'm so sorry!

More sorries,

Cellie

Disclaimer: Do I even have to do this? We know this is not mine and doesn't belong to me.

Chapter 2: Old Friends

Hermione left the bar soon after Maude kicked out Avery and McNair. She set off walking to her little studio house. Her mind was buzzing with questions. What was two deatheaters doing in this one horse town? It had sounded like they were here on Voldemort's instructions, but what was Voldemort planning to do? She didn't know, but she certainly had a bad feeling about it. She wondered on, continuing down the sidewalk, twisting a lock of hair a she pondered. She was nearly to her building when she smacked into a pair of people she mostly wouldn't have noticed if she as paying attention.

Hermione, who had been winded, rubbed her stomach. "Umm, sorry, I wasn't paying attention." The people she had bowled over were two men, one tall red haired man who was fussing with a hole in his pants, the other a slightly shorter dark haired man who seemed to be searching the ground for something. He located the object of his interest (his glasses) put them on, and straightened up.

"Hermione?" he said, "Is that you?" Hermione's heart stopped as she realized who it was. Harry and Ron.

Ron looked as though he had been hit in the face by some higher power with a huge fly swatter. "Hermione….." He said, taking several minutes to get over his utter shock and disbelief. "Where have you been?"

"What business is it of yours Ronald?" Hermione said sharply, to cover up the panic in her voice. _They're going to make me go back now, and I just can't…_

"Hermione," Ron said, "We thought you were dead. We're your friends. You couldn't tell us?" And when his lip trembled, in the style that was so uniquely Ron's, she lost it.

"Ron you don't understand!" She bawled, appalling God and everyone, "I couldn't…..couldn't stay….."

"Why?" He said, reaching out it brush back a strand of hair hanging in her face, causing Hermione to burst into a fresh tears. Ron looked a mixture of trying to understand and surprise, as Hermione hadn't cried in public since Crookshanks had gone to the big catnip field in the sky.

"Never mind forget it…" She said, trying and failing to regain her composure.

"Oh." said Harry, put the pieces together and understanding. "Hermione, it happens to everyone."

"What?" said Hermione, snuffing in a way that wasn't very ladylike.

"Post battle stress." said Harry quietly. Ron nodded. Ron gestured to Hermione to come to him. She went and sat in his lap, still snuffing.

"Hermione, during my first battle, I was scared to death. I had nightmares for months afterward. It happened to Harry. It happened to everyone." said Ron, folding his arms around her. "It's just a part of you that never goes away."

"Thank you Ron." she whispered into his shirt.

"Let's go back to the room you guys." said Harry, ruining the romantic mood of the moment. They gathered themselves up, and walking arm in arm with Hermione, feeling just a bit in a better mood than leaving Maude's Roadside Retreat, began to whistle 'We're Off to See the Wizard' as they went.

In the room

"So, what's been going on?" asked Hermione once they had reached the room and stepped inside. She looked around the room, noticing the disarray of it, with a black sock hanging over a lampshade, and an old pot of coffee in the maker. She immediately started to tidy it up, picking up the sock with a broom kept in the closet. Harry and Ron took places on the cozy armchair and the bed, which needed to be made. After cleaning most of it, she scowled at the coffee and sat on the second mismatched cozy armchair.

"Now that you're done, we've been tracking deatheaters for about three months now, and their moves of recent seem to be centered toward this (he pointed at circled in red spot on the map of the Pacific Ocean, one of the various maps the were haphazardly push pinned up on the wall) area." Harry explained.

"Do you have any idea what their up to?" Hermione asked. At this, Harry and Ron shared a look, one that intensified Hermione's previous bad feeling she'd been having after she left the bar.

"Hermione, do you remember the campout by the lake in 7th year?" asked Ron.

"Yes of course, Seamus and Dean set off some of Fred and George's fireworks by my tent."

"Do you remember the wizarding legends we told by the fire?"

"Yes…" said Hermione, not sure where this was going and not liking the ominous tone of Ron's voice.

"Remember the one about creating new dementors…" Hermione stood up.

"That's supposed to be a myth, I mean, I assume they breed?" said Hermione, and all present shuddered at the horrific mental image that gave. "It's just not possible…"

Flashback

"Want to hear a really scary one?" said Ginny, whose mischievous nature that made her so like her brothers, Fred and George, was shining through her eyes.

"Yeah lets hear it!" shouted Dean, teasing Neville who was shaking his head vigorously 'no'.

"Okay," said Ginny, leaning closer to the fire, "back in the dark ages, the evil witch Morgan le Fay, mortal enemy of Merlin and half sister of King Arthur. She was the developer of the unforgivable curses. And some say she could turn a person into a …" Here she paused for dramatic effect, "dementor!"

"No!" whispered Neville, plugging his ears.

"Yes," said Ginny, grinning maliciously. "Though they had existed for thousands of years, the evil sorceress found a way to make new ones. It doesn't have to be a person of magical blood, and it had to be an aguishly tortured soul before the potion is drunk and curse is performed, and then, an existing dementor must administer the kiss of death." Neville buried his head in his pillow he had brought to the fireside. "And with the newly created ones, they don't look any different, only they never age, and are completely pale and have almost black eyes. And so," Ginny finished, "You better watch out before talking back to Snape, because he could just suck out your soul." and just about everyone had laughed at that.

"Do you think it's true?" said Ron, his voice betraying it jumpiness as he walking her back to her tent.

"Of course not Ron." she said, and kissed him on the cheek. "Good night."

end flashback

"Its just not possible." said Hermione.

Hermione, please sit down. All evidence points to this. It isn't a fairy tale anymore. This is real, and we need your help. Will you?" said Harry, his eyes pleading. Hermione considered their evidence. Well, it would be on her continence if either of them did something dumb and got themselves killed…

"Fine, okay, you've got me, I'm in." she said throwing her hands up in surrender. Harry and Ron both simultaneously sighed.

"Thank you Hermione. Now, lets get started." said Ron. "I'll send for pizza and coffee, this might be a while."

A/n: YES! I finally got this up! Sorry again to all of you! Since this is all on notebook paper, this shouldn't take much longer to get all of the chapters I have up.

Tanx for being patient,

Cellie

ps: r+r happy authoress! Just a hint…


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